Sidekick's Little Sister
by SkaleFlapper15
Summary: What if Daxter had a sister 1 year younger? How would she react to Haven City? Well, let's find out. Say hello to Dezerae! Rated for later chapters.Not sure if the second genre fits. Oh, well.
1. Yakows and Packing

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Dezerae. If I did, Daxter would be human a lot sooner.

It's my first fanfiction, so tell me how I'm doing. Good? Bad?

And it's set during JakII, just so you know.

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**Chapter 1: Yakows and Packing.**

"Nice girl, good Bessie." I murmered to the startled yakow, stroking her muzzle. Farmer Zeb had asked me to find the poor thing. "It's okay..."

And I thought Lurkers would get less horrible with their dwindling populations. Frightening a mother yakow! The mongrels!

Brushing a lock of firey-red hair behind my ear, I coaxed Bessie from the beach back to her pen, where her calf was waiting. Poor little guy. When we reached the destination, I saw Farmer Zeb snoozing. I swear that man could sleep through a thunderstorm. He snored as loud as one.

"Hey, Dezerae!"

I looked up from my temporary charge. Keira was heading toward me, a troubled look on her face. "Hey, Keira!" I answered.

"Have you seen Jak? I can't find him anywhere! I even checked the old treehouse."

I scratched my head. "No. Come to think of it, I haven't seen my brother since this morning, either."

"Boys..." Keira said with a mock-exasperated look on her face.

"Tell me about it. They save the world and then they're everywhere but here."

"What is Bessie doing this far from the pen and her calf?" She asked, changing the subject.

"According to Farmer Zeb, a couple Lurkers tried to steal her. He asked me to find her. You wanna come say high to Malo?" I offered. Keira nodded.

Malo and his father, Tank, were waiting at the gate. Tank was pacing anxiously, obviously worried about his mate. Farther back, Losa, Trix, and the rest of the herd were napping in the shade of a well-placed tree. Malo pranced up to greet us, braying at Keira's heels. Tank came up to nuzzle Bessie affectionately, which she returned gratefully.

"Daddy says that we're going to test that Precursor Ring tomorrow. He says it would be best to test it immediately."

"Well, then I guess I'd better pack." I said. I ushered Malo back to his parents and shut the gate. "Bye, little guy." I told him with a pat on the yet-to-have-horns head.

Keira and I split ways. I to the old hut that Mom and Dad used to occupy farther along the beach, she to her home with the Green Sage.

I walked through the little hut, heading towards the even smaller alcove that served as my bedroom. It served no purpose except as a place to sleep, change clothes, and keep small keepsakes. My parents had shared this room before they were killed by Lurkers, when I was six, and Daxter was seven. Yes, he was a year older than me, and he never let _that _drop. Now I slept here, and Daxter rested in the other bedroom. Not at the moment, though.

I got down on my knees next to the bed and groped until a weathered satchel came within my grasp. Setting it down on the mattress, I removed its contents. Notes from Samos' lectures, scrap paper, and other items that were no longer needed. Moving over to the small dresser, I touched Mom's locket in thought as to what I would need. It was a simple piece of jewelry, in the shape of a seashell. Dad had given it to Mom when they had first started dating. Dad had been from Rock Village, and first saw Mom when he was visiting Mayor Manac, who was an old friend. Mom was a country girl, and that night had been the Midsummer's Dance. Dad was staying the night, so he stayed for the event. Neither Mom nor Dad had partners, so they were both sitting watching the dancers, too self concious to ask anyone to dance. Dad got over his paranoia first, and asked her if he could have the dance, and bada bing, bada boom, marriage, a baby boy conceived three years after they tied the knot, and a girl a year later. It was my favorite story, and when I turned four, Mom had decided that since I liked the story so much, I could be the official Locket Bearer. It wasn't a real title, but I was four, okay? How many of you believed anything your parents told you at that age?

I didn't know how long the trip was going to be, I packed a couple sets of clean clothes, underwear, and my journal. As Jak's uncle would say, it would be best to record my experiences and thoughts. And it would be a good way to vent without harming anyone. Precursors knew I'd need to with a brother like Daxter. I also took two photos from the wall above the headboard. One, was Mom and Dad on their wedding day. The other was a recent one of me, Jak, Keira, and Daxter in a treehouse we built as preteens. The place held many memories, from a surprise party for Keira's tenth birthday, to Daxter losing Keira's soccer ball and painting a wumpbee's nest to look like one a few years back. Carefully slipping them into the journal, and then into the satchel, I stowed the entire bundle under the bed.

"Anybody home?" Daxter called, finally back from whatever mischief he and Jak had been up to in their absence.

"Nope. Go away." I said sarcastically, heading into the main room. "Of course I'm home. Where else would I be?" Daxter shrugged.

"Oh you may want to pack. We're leaving tomorrow." I informed him. Daxter headed to his alcove to do just that. Grabbing a book from the shelf, I left Daxter to pack whatever it is ottsels pack.

I walked through the village until I came to the aforementioned treehouse. It was quiet, so it was a prime reading space. I sat myself down on the lift rigged from a rope thrown across a branch and a plank left over from the building of the structure and pulled myself up to the hole in the wall we called a door. Walking in and settling on the floor, I opened the book I had brought, _Eco Tales from Ages Past_.


	2. The Rift

Hey, looky! Chapter 2!

I don't own Jak, Daxter, or any other character except Dezerae.

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**Chapter 2: the Rift**

The next day, was like any other day, except for it being _the big day_. The day we find out whether or not the Precursor Ring was functional. If not, then we had just wasted our time moving it from the Citadel to here. Don't even ask me how it was done. I'm still not sure how we fit it through the warp gate. That 'Rift Rider' was a little simpler, as it was way smaller. I guess if it didn't work, Keira and Samos would have one _heck_ of a lawn ornament.

"Dez! Dez! _Wake up, Dezerae_!!" Was the first thing I heard that morning. And who was it, you may ask? Daxter. My older brother was hopping up and down at the foot of my bed, grinning like a 3-year-old kid at _5:30am _on Christmas Morning.

I sat up groggily. "What is it, Fuzzy?"

Daxter frowned a little bit. "I've been trying to wake you up for the past hour, just so you know. Anyway, you should probably get dressed. We're testing that Precursor Ring today, and we're gonna be late if _you_," he pointed a furry finger in my face,"keep lollygagging in bed!"

My brother took any excuse to act like an adult to his (oh, I hate this word) 'baby sister.' I was only a year younger, for Precursor's sake! "Okay, 1) it's only 9 o' clock, and we're testing it this afternoon. And 2) it takes ten minutes _tops_ to get from here to Samos' hut."

"Yeah, well, it never hurt anybody to be prepared." He countered. Or at least, _tried_ to counter.

"Says the 2-foot-tall rodent who ran into a _tree_ last week."

"Who said trees never hurt anybody?"

"Um, _everyone_?" I guessed, my voice taking on a teasing tone.

"That wasn't no normal tree! I swear Ol' Green Stuff put that glorified stick up to it!" Daxter exclaimed, trying to keep his dignity intact on the 'big day.'

After Daxter left to check and make sure he had everything ready to go, I changed out of my pajamas and into a canary yellow tank top, khaki capris, and the trademark sandals of Sandover residents. Grabbing a hairbrush from the dresser, I ran it through my hair vigorously. After I secured Mom's locket, and headed into the kitchen/living room for breakfast.

------

Later, Keira, Jak, Daxter, and I were waiting for Samos to finish _his_ packing. And the man got snappy with _us_ for taking _our_ sweet time. Sheesh. I hoped that I wouldn't be that grumpy when I was his age.

Everyone else was ready and rearing to go. I had my satchel over my shoulder and was sitting on a wooden step, writing in my journal. Keira had her drawstring bag in the seat of the Rift Rider, while she was checking the machine for any malfunctioning parts. Jak's backpack was at his feet as he stood with his arms crossed, looking the part of someone who had just saved the world from two complete lunatics who were obsessed with Dark Eco and wanted to cover the world with it as one would cover a wall with a fresh coat of paint (wow that was a mouthful). Daxter's bag had been fashioned out of an old handkerchief and was on his lap as he napped, resting against the front of the machine.

I placed my journal back in my satchel when I heard wooden shoes descending from the second floor of the hut. "Today's the big day, Jak," Samos said, a rucksack hanging from his green hand."I hope you are prepared. For whatever happens." His tone became oddly somber.

Before anyone could ask why he sounded so grave on that last sentence, Keira piped up. "I think I've figured out most of this machine."

Before I could stop myself, I cut in. "Think? Most? You mean there's a chance that the whole thing could go _ka-boom_!? With us inside?"

"Relax, Dez. I know what I'm doing." Keira said, smirking at my uncertainty with the Rift Rider.

_She'd better hope so, or we're gonna be in_ deep_ yakow doo-doo, _I thought as she continued. "Anyway, the machine interacts somehow with that large Precursor Ring. I just hope we didn't break anything moving it here to the lab." She added, sitting in the Rift Rider seat.

_Okay, we're definitely gonna die_. Without anything better to do, I followed Keira's example along with the rest of the group, taking a seat on Keira's left.

"Easy for you to say. _We_ did all the heavy lifting." Daxter scoffed, not including the fact that Jak had done all the heavy lifting, while Daxter 'supervised.'

Samos was quick to scold Daxter as the furball reached forward to touch a glowing red gem. "Daxter! Don't touch anything!" Knowing my brother's luck with Precursor items, this was probably a good idea. "Though the precursors vanished long ago," Everyone rolled their eyes. Samos was always ranting about the Precursors. I was willing to bet an arm that the man would faint if he met one. "The artifacts that they left behind could still do great harm."

"Or great good," Keira interjected, preventing her father from launching into an hour long lecture. "If you figure out how to use them."

"I've had some experience with such things," The Sage said, turning to Jak. "I know you can make it work."

Jak, in turn, pressed the very button that Daxter had try to push. Almost instantly, the Precursor Ring started to turn. A light began pulsing at the center.

"Looks like Jak's still got the mojo!"

"Strange... It appears to be reading out some preset coordinates." Keira said, leaning close to examine a now-open-and-spinning artifact.

That's when everything went to hell. The sky darkened, even though it was early afternoon. Strange things were flying out of the newly opened portal. Each one that I caught a glimpse of had some kind of glowing yellow orb on their head. Suddenly, the largest one of all stuck it's head through the newly created rift. And the worst thing was, it spoke. "The last Rift Gate has been opened!" Then it seemed to look directly at our group of five. "You cannot hide from me, boy!" Okay, now I was confused. Nobody was hiding, and I didn't think that... thing was looking for a friendly game of hide and seek.

Keira was the first to overcome her shock. "Do something, Jak!" She screamed. Jak took this as permission to _ram his fist_ into the big red button. Everone knows that pressing the big red button is a _very_ bad idea.

The Rift Rider lurched forward, gaining speed as it moved towards the monster. Everybody calmed down marginally after we shot under the beast's legs. Either that, or the speed we were going through the rift was making it hard to speak. "What was that thing?" Keira asked, taking deep breaths to calm herself. No one answered her as we continued to fly in a haphazard manner.

"Hang on everyone!" Samos ordered from his spot on Jak's right.

"Like we have a choice!" I shouted back.

"I want off this thing!" Daxter yelled. I silently agreed; I was starting to get nauseous.

At that moment a purple bolt of lightning struck the rift rider, scattering everyone in different directions. "Find yourself, Jak!" Samos practically screeched as our group was separated.

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Read and Review, please!


	3. Strange Place and KG chase

Hello, again.

This is gonna sound cheesy, but I'd like to thank Purple Dragon 614 for being the first reviewer. Thanks!

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**Chapter 3**

"Oof!" I landed on my rear, _hard_. Just what I needed. A bruised derriere.

"I think Daxter's bad luck is starting to rub off on me." I muttered as I stood up and brushed myself off. At the absense of a "Hey!" or some kind of smart retort, I turned around.

The only thing there was an empty street. Wait- street? Sandover didn't have streets last time I checked. How long were we in that warp tunnel? It had only seemed like a couple of minutes, but then again a warp gate could take you across the country in a matter of seconds. The more I thought about it, the more scared and lost I felt. "Daxter? Keira? Jak? Samos?" I was hoping that this was just a trick they were playing, that they would pop out, yell, "Surprise!" or "Gotcha!"

But this didn't feel like a practical joke. This felt real, and that made it ten times worse. Looking around, I also saw that the buildings were all crooked, and leaning into each other. There were ditches every few hundred meters and wooden bridges to cross them.

A strange man (I think it was a man) walked up to me, wearing bulky red armor and holding a weird weapon. That wasn't normal, but then neither was falling in Dark Eco and popping out an orange furball. "Excuse me, miss, but I'm going to have to confiscate your bag. Civilians aren't allowed to carry bags outside their homes. Baron's orders." His voice was oddly coated with static. I backed up a couple steps as he reached for my satchel, and retreated some more as he advanced. The man raised his weapon. "Give me the bag, and nobody's going to get hurt."

Next thing I knew, I was running in the other direction. The red man yelled for me to halt, and when I didn't he raised a communicator and began talking into it. "Suspect in Sector twelve! Carrying suspicious package!"

Soon a whole squad was chasing me. Gunshots sounded, the projectiles missing by mere inches. Sheesh, overreactive much. So I refused to give them a _bag_, big whoop! But this wasn't the time for sarcasm, This was the time for making myself scarce. I hopped down in a ditch when I had enough of a lead. Pressing myself against the wall, and heart beating so loud I thought the Precursors could here it from wherever they were, I tried to quiet my breathing. The red men crossed the bridges above me, calling out, "Suspect not in sight!" every few minutes. They were definitely not the smartest bunch, standing over a 2-yard wide _hole_ and not having the common sense to look _down_. Not that I was complaining.

After about an hour they left. I peeked out of my hiding place, and pulled my head in just as fast. The men in red were everywhere! I slid down to the ground, keeping a death grip on my bag. Okay, deep breaths. In and out. they couldn't just walk around this area forever, could they?

Fortunately, they didn't. After _another_ hour they declared the area 'safe' and 'not housing any threat.' So when nobody was looking, I climbed out of the ditch, took a few steadying breaths, and walked around.

It got dark soon after, and it seemed that there was a curfew here, because the minute the sun disappeared most people followed suit.

I guess I got beaned with a smidge of luck when I found some semi-exposed heating pipes. Crawling in and finding it a near-perfect temperature, I curled up and fell asleep, hoping that I could find everyone soon.

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Cheerio, ta ta, bye bye, peace out, ten four, over and out...

Not as long, I know. Next time will be longer. And I find it fair to warn you that updates will not be very often in the near future, thanks to a suckish invention called "High School." Half the stuff they teach us will be forgotten soon after they hand us the diplomas, anyway

Hey, lookie! A nice button that says "Review." Press it, please!


	4. Sig

iHola! ?Como estas?

Don't know how to do the upside down ?

lol

Okay I lied. This one wasn't much longer was it?

Sorry about the lack of in-chapter naming on the last chapter. Got a tad lazy there.

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**Chapter 4: Sig**

The next couple of months were kind of a blur, but I did find out that I was in Haven City. Wherever that is... I also learned that the section that I'd landed in was known as the Slums, and believe me it sure lived up to its name.

I lived on the streets during that time, dividing my time between running from 'Krimzon Guards,' as they seem to be known as, and digging through the trash to eat. I was caught a few times, and _that_ caused the KG start chasing me down _again_.

Survival became the game, and my appearance showed it. I'd thinned, as was expected of someone who learned to live off garbage. But that was the food available, save for a kind soul willing to hand over a crust of bread every so often. And my feet had seen better days, scratched and bruised because the sandals had long since worn off. I'd never really cared about how I looked, but right then I would have almost given anything for a warm bath and a set of clean clothes. I kept my satchel in the hole with heating pipes. I came back every night, so what was the point of carting it around with me?

At about the four month mark (and at 6:01 in the morning, no less) I recieved a rather rude awakening. I'd been writing in my journal, the pen I'd brought scratching against the paper quietly, and next moment I was dragged out of my hole in the wall by my ankle. The minute I saw bulky gray armor, I started beating every inch I could reach with my journal. This guy wasn't wearing the usual red armor, or the less common yellow uniform of the Guard, but that didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was that this person had a grip on my leg, holding me upside down, and I was scared out of my mind.

"Hey! Woah!" He was obviously not expecting a beating from a book. In his shock, I was dropped on my head. "Definitely not a Metal Head..." He regarded me with curious eyes, crouching down to my level. "You're one fiesty cherry, aren't you?"

Wait a minute. Did this guy just call me a cherry? Now I was really confused. Looking him over, I saw that he was dark skinned, and his armor was lacking any KG insignia. That was a little comforting until I saw the claws and horns that adorned his attire, and the giant gun he had on his back. I figured my best bet would be to keep my mouth shut and try not to make him angry, so that's what I did.

He raised an eyebrow, and rubbed what looked like some kind of monocle absentmindedly. "Sorry about that, by the way. When people see yellow, they think Metal Head." He paused. "Where are my manners?" The man held out a large blue gloved hand. "Name's Sig."

I hesitated in shaking the appendage, but did so after he assured me that it wouldn't bite. "My name's Dezerae." I said, and immediately tilted my head. "What's a Metal Head?"

'Sig' looked at me like I was crazy. "You don't know what a Metal Head is?" No, bub, I was trying to make you ask questions. Instead of voicing this, I shook my head, that seeming the wisest choice at the moment. "Dang, chilipepper, you ain't from around here are you? Metal heads are the monsters that've been messin' with the city for as long as anybody can remember. And his _highness_, Praxis," Something told me that this Praxis guy was not the most favored ruler. "keeps them at bay. Or so he says. If you ask me, it's a load of yakow shit. Keeps the city under his heel, the tyrant." Evidently that 'something' told me right.

Changing the subject, Sig looked me up and down. "Girl, you look half starved. Your momma feed you?"

"My parents have been... dead for about eight years now." I replied, eyes downcast. Before he could apologize, I cut him off. "Don't. You didn't know."

Sig nodded. "Well, anyway you look like you need some grub. And some bandages, judging by your feet." He added glancing down at my bare toes.

My stomach growled in agreement. I hadn't had a decent meal in weeks. Sig laughed. "I'll take that a yes." He said, motioning for me to follow. And follow him I did, after retrieving my satchel and journal.

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R&R please!

Cookies to those who could tell it was Sig at the mention of "bulky gray armor"


	5. Introduction to the Underground

Okay, I guess here's chapter 5! not much to say, except Torn's gonna be in this chappie, and Tess, too.

Communicators will be refered to as comms, now, just to let you know

Sorry about the spacing if it's weird. Who am I kidding? My computer's weird.

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**Chapter 5: Introduction to the Underground**

"Here we are." Sig spread his arms, gesturing to the dead-end alley we'd arrived at. There was a symbol like one's I had seen on the way here on a wall. The Baron's mark, Sig had told me. But the one on the wall was green, and it had a hammer above it, cracking the symbol. But it didn't look like it would be the headquarters of the infamous Underground.

"Uh, Sig? Are you sure this is the place?" I asked. Sig chuckled at my question, apparently seeing an inside joke that I didn't know.

Instead of answering, though, he walked up to the green symbol. As if sensing him, the wall slid away to reveal a doorway. "Remember, chilipepper, things ain't always what they look like." He stated, pointing up at a dark street light hanging over the door. "See that lamp? There's a camera hidden in there. But you have to be an Undergrounder for it to open the door. But if a KG happened to walk up to this wall, it would stay closed. And it would set off an alarm on the inside of the HQ, warning all the people in there."

I made a note to remember that in the future. When Sig walked through the doorway, and headed down the stairs that were inside, I followed him. The stairs went below ground, evidently leading to the name, Underground. At the bottom, there was a medium-sized room, dominated nearly halfway by the bunk beds that were situated around the entrance. The other half held a round table, a zoomer in the corner, and a furnace on the left hand wall.

Standing behind the table, scowling at various maps, was a man who was probably in his late-twenties, early-thirties. His hair was pulled back in dreadlocks, and he wore red, blue and brown. Tattoos spread across his face, even the tips of his ears and eyelids. That must have been painful.

Without looking up, the man spoke. "What is it, Sig?"

"Aw, come on, man! Don't I get a 'hi', or something, Torn?" Sig said.

Torn rolled his eyes. "Hi." He said flatly. "Now, what is it?"

Smirking, Sig nudged me forward. "This is Dezerae. I found her in some heating pipes."

"And?"

"_And_, I wouldn't have even seen her if she wasn't wearing yellow. Which means she could be useful to the Underground."

The two men talked as though I wasn't even there! Seriously, I know I'm not as loud as my brother, but am I really that easily overlooked? Despite the fact that I wanted to stay on these people's good sides, I found my eyes narrowing a bit.

"Fine," Torn said, "But she has to prove it. Tomorrow, though. She looks dead on her feet." Now that he'd mentioned it, I was tired. It had taken nearly all day to get from the hole in the wall to here, thanks to the Slums being so big. And my early wake-up call didn't help my stamina, either.

Torn turned his back to us, speaking into a comm. "Tess?"

A female voice answered. "Yeah, Torn?"

"Do you think you could to the main room for a minute? A new recruit needs some attention."

"Sure. I'll be right there." There was a clicking sound as 'Tess' hung up.

Sig decided to go, saying goodbye and leaving me alone with Torn. I could feel his eyes on me, but I stared at the floor, shifting from foot to cut foot. The last thing I needed was to make this guy upset somehow, and be kicked out of here before I could show them what I could do.

Thankfully a door on the right opened and a young woman with blond hair, wearing a green midriff, low-cut top, and mid-thigh denim shorts walked out. This, I supposed, must be Tess.

She automatically faced Torn. "Where's the new recruit?" Torn pointed in my direction. Tess turned to me. "Follow me," She said. "I'll get you cleaned up."

It was then I realized exactly _how_ dirty I was. Being clean would be nice, so I complied, still clutching my satchel. Once in the hall, with the door shut behind us, Tess led me down the hall, asking questions all the way.

"I'm Tess, as you may have guessed. What's your name?"

"Dezerae. But people just call me Dez, or Dezer sometimes."

"I like that name. How old are you?" She fired off.

"Fourteen, but I'll be fifteen in a couple months." I answered. "What about you?"

"Sixteen. I haven't seen you around. Are you from Haven?"

"No, I'm from Sandover. I'm not sure how far it is from here, though."

"I haven't heard of a place called that. Maybe it's near Kras." Tess added.

"Kras?"

"It's a city east of here." She returned to the interrogation. "Are you here by yourself? In Haven, I mean?"

"Actually I'm not sure. I was separated from my brother and my friends when I got here, so I don't know where they are." I thought it was best to leave out the parts about the warp tunnel and crash landing.

"Here it is." Tess said, putting an end to our game of twenty questions before it could reach ten. She pointed to a door, clearly marked, 'Infirmary'. "We'll get you some bandages here, then a shower. After that I'll get you some food from the mess hall."

------

"This way. You can room with me and Natalie."

After entering and exiting the Infirmary, things went pretty smoothly. My feet were bandaged, I was clean for the first time in months, and I was no longer wearing the dirty clothes that I had been just this morning. Instead I was wearing what Tess had said were her old pajamas. Now we were heading towards Tess' room through the dimly lit hall.

Once inside the room, I saw that there were four bunks against the far wall. One of which was already occupied by a black-haired female. Upon hearing the door close, she looked up from the book in her hands. "Hey," She said. "Who's your friend, Tess?"

"This is Dezerae. She's new." Tess replied. "We were just about to drop by the mess hall for dinner after she dropped her stuff off. You wanna come with?"

"Sure." Facing me she said, "I'm Natalie, but call me Nat. You can have the other bottom bunk. It's been empty for the past couple years."

I nodded, striding up to the bed she pointed to and plopping my bag down on it. Then me, Natalie, and Tess headed down to the mess hall.

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Yay, another OC added into the mix!

Read and Review, Don't like don't read,..

You know the drill

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Well, that's it for now


	6. Mess Hall and Mornings

Okay, another thankyou to Purple Dragon 614 for that recent piece of advice. Now onto chappie numero six!

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**Chapter Six: Mess Hall and Mornings**

The mess hall lived up to its name: it was messy! It was basically like your typical cafeteria, if you take away the fact it was underground. It was filled with tables from one wall to the other, nearly all of which were filled with Underground agents. There was a window in the opposite wall with a stack of trays and a kind, grandmotherly-looking woman ladeling food onto trays. Tess and Natalie pointed out the different people as we crossed the room and got trays (Nat said hello to Beth, the lady in the window).

"See over there? That's Xavior, and right next to him is Jinni. They've been in an on again, off again relation ship for _months_. And that's Lyssa, Stacia, and Manda. Next to Stacia is Robbi, her brother. He's protective of her, so she hasn't had a boyfriend in four years." Tess informed.

Natalie cut in. "But what about Seth? She dated him two years back. But then, that only lasted a couple hours. Anyway, Over there, with the spiky purple hair, is Damion. He joined up way back when with Torn and Tess. Hardly a day when he's not out on a mission."

"Yeah." Tess agreed. "I guess today's one of those days. Oh, there's Monte and Phenric! Let's sit over there." She led me and Nat over to one of the tables that weren't filled with people. Seated at the table were two young men, around my age.

Sitting down, Tess wasted no time in getting to the introductions. "Monte, Phenric, have you met Dezerae?" She motioned to each as she said their names.

"No, I don't believe I have." The boy who I presumed was Monte, spoke with a slight cockney accent. He wore a T-shirt with a symbol similar to the one on the entrance to the Hideout, and blue jeans. Topping his head was a hairstyle much like Torn's, except that it was platinum blonde with black tips.

"Me neither." Said the other. 'Phenric', if I was correct in my assumptions as to which was which. His hair was brown, about collarbone length. On his left wrist was a hemp bracelet. He wore khaki trousers, and a light blue tunic.

"Nice to meet you." I said, extending a hand to shake across the table.

Monte shook it first. "The pleasure is mine, miss Dezerae, was it?" I nodded, grinning.

Phenric shook my hand next, smiling a bit shyly. "Nice to meet you." He said, before I could. "But people don't usually call me Phenric. Oftentimes they call me Phen."

"Well, people usually call me Dez." I countered, then added, "Or Dezer."

Tess laughed. " I think you two are going to get along just fine."

-----

The first thing I was aware of the next morning were the boots that hit me in the head. Sitting up, I glared at Natalie, who was standing across the room with an 'I-didn't-do-it' look on her face. In her hands she held a bundle of clothes.

"Up and adam, sleeping beauty!" She said in a cheery voice that told me that she was much more of a morning person than I was. "Torn wants you in the main room to go over Underground rules." Natalie then threw the clothes at me. "So get dressed. I found some clothes that should fit you. I'll be outside the room when you're ready."

After she left, I inspected the outfit, then slipped into it. It consisted of baggy blue cargo pants, a white midriff tank top, a yellow hooded jacket. Also included were yellow fingerless gloves with fishnets that went up the arm, giving the illusion of the gloves being attached to the jacket. Especially when I rolled up the jacket sleeves to my elbows.

Glancing in the mirror Tess had on the wall, I saw how bad my hair had gotten overnight. Bedhead nightmare! I ran my hands through my hair to make it look at least a little presentable. Yawning, I left the room, careful not to wake Tess, who was snoring softly on one of the top bunks. True to her word, Natalie was there waiting.

"Okay, let's get this show on the road." I said, stifling another yawn.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Yay! I have to admit. I didn't think that I would keep on it this long. But that just goes to show ya, huh?


	7. Waitressing and Gadgets

Ooh! chappie seven! I'm _this close_ to ten chapters.

Me thinks it's time for a time jump. How's 6 months sound?  
First sentence is a run-on, I know. Just bear with me, 'kay?

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Waitressing and Gadgets**

Four months on the Slum's streets fighting for survival as a street rat, plus six months in the Underground sabotaging KG cruisers and downloading enemy intel by night and spying on a floating tub of lard I'd come to know as Krew by day, equals ten months that I've been away from home, and without my brother and my friends. Not that I didn't make friends in the rebel cause. I mean, Natalie and I were practically joined at the hip. But one does miss home after a while.

"Dezer? You okay?"

"Yes, Nat. I'm fine." I answered almost robotically.

"You sure? You zoned out on Monte back there at breakfast, and you just did it again." Natalie sounded worried as she searched our shared closet for an outfit to wear to work.

"Really, Natalie. I was just thinking." I said, not wanting her to go into 'tell-me-who-made-you-upset-I'll-make-them-hurt' mode. Even though I would have done the same if we switched places.

"About what? Don't tell me it's Erol!" She assumed the facial expression of complete shock, even though I hadn't answered yet.

I laughed. "The day I think of him _like that_, is the day Torn starts wearing pink dresses and freaks out over a chipped fingernails. And you and I both know that will _never_ happen." The Krimzon Guard Commander was at the bottom of the list of guys I would choose, right under Krew. Not that the list was long, or even written down, for that matter.

Nat chuckled, imagining Torn doing those things. "It's also the day the Kid spends more than ten minutes away from that crocadog, or Kor."

"Besides, I get some weird vibes around him, and it kinda creeps me out." Something about Erol just... wasn't right. I didn't know why, but something was. It was partially the reason I avoided waiting his table when he came to the Hip Hog Heaven Saloon if I could help it. The other reason was his eyes. I know my favorite color is yellow, but Erol's eyes were a toxic yellow. A yellow I didn't want to see up close.

"Now that that's cleared up, what were you thinking about?" Nat pressed her original question.

"I was thinking about home." I replied. "It's been almost a year and I've hardly found anything. I don't even know if they're alive."

"Don't worry so much, Dez. We'll find them."

"We?" I asked, a grin already warming my features.

"Yes, _we_. You didn't think Phen, Monte, and I were going to let you do this on your own, did you?" Natalie asserted.

"Speaking of Phen, we're gonna be late if he doesn't wake up and drive us to the Hip Hog!" I exclaimed after seeing the time. Jumping to my feet, I ran at the closet and pulled on the first outfit I saw. Dressed, I grabbed Nat's wrist. "Come on!"

------

The Hip Hog was sparsly populated at this time in the morning, but that didn't stop the owner from chewing us out for being five minutes late.

"Where have you been, mmmm? Your shifts began," He paused, glancing at the clock. "Five minutes ago!"

"But we're here now, _boss_." Phenric said with barely concealed disgust. Thankfully, Krew either didn't catch it or didn't care.

Natalie dragged both me and Phen into the back room before our employer could catch on to the sarcasm.

Grabbing my waitress apron, I handed the other to Nat and and a busboy apron to Phenric.

------

As our shifts met their end, so did Krew's patience. We were barely able to grab our paychecks and tips before leaving. The Hip Hog wasn't known for it's cleanliness, but the pay was moderately good. It was better than minimum wage, anyway.

Erol had been there today, and he was in an oddly good mood. I could tell from the tip Natalie got from him. People almost always tipped generously when they had a good day.

I almost felt sorry for the jackass. He didn't know his money was going toward a cause to bring him and the baron down. But only almost.

We didn't have much info to relay to Torn, other than Krew is changing to a cheaper brand of soap in the restrooms. And that little tidbit didn't really brighten up his day, considering the mission he gave us.

"I need you to infiltrate the Fortress and retrieve any and all information you can on the aleged 'Eco Warrior Project'." He said, shooting the three of us a glare for that soap comment. Sometimes I wondered what kind of Metal Bug decided to crawl up his ass and die, but I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

Changing into an all black attire (courtesy of Monte, who knew the guy was so good with a sewing machine), Phen, Natalie and I met in the main room before beginning our task. It wasn't that we wanted to wait, but we had to wait for nightfall, so as to blend with the night. And we were waiting on the new gadgets an informant, Vin, was bringing in from a supplier. One of the perks that came with the assignment: fun little devices to use in the operation. Plus, they were great for April Fool's Day.

Soon, night fell and Vin was heard before he was seen. It was hard not to laugh, seeing as he looked like he was imitating an old spy movie, _while_ carrying a box that looked like it weighed a fourth of his body weight.

"H-here they a-are, Torn. A f-full box of g-g-gadgets." Vin's stammering voice filled the room as he lugged the box onto a nearby bunk. "I-I'm going to h-head back t-t-to the P-power Station before t-they realize I'm g-gone." And with that, he took his leave.(**_A/N: Classic Vin, wanting to leave as soon as possible._**)

"Later, Vin!" Natalie called after him the same time I shouted, "Drive safely!"

Opening the box, Phenric pulled out what looked like a bullhorn.

"Oh, great!" Natalie said. "What better way to stay _inconspicuous_ than a _bullhorn_?"

"Wait a second. There's the baron's mark. I wonder if..." Phen trailed off. He pushed the button, then spoke into it. Everyone fell on their butts when we heard Praxis, instead. "Testing, one, two, three..."

"Holy _crap_!" resounded around the room.

Phen handed the thing to me. Seeing a button with the KG insignia, I pushed it and tried a phrase I'd heard the Guard say many times. "I hate this part of the city."

"Ooh! Let me try!" Natalie squeeled, snatching the device and trying out the 'Erol' setting. I had a feeling it would come in handy. Looking in the box, I also saw blank discs for the downloading of the intel, thumbprint copiers, two other voice changers, a grappling hook, and rope. _Lots_ of rope.

As we gathered the items, Torn told us to be careful and wished us good luck, as he always did.

"Ready?" I asked, glancing at the other two.

"As I'll ever be."

"Let's get this over with"

* * *

Ooh! What shall they find? Stay tuned!

And I said this on my profile, but I'll say it again: If you bother to read, please review!


	8. Just Another Night on the Job

Sorry for the wait... etc. ...

On with the story!

Oh, and sorry if i misspell disc (disk?)

**

* * *

**

Chapter Eight:

Getting into the Fortress was more or less simple. Phenric, Natalie, and I had basically memorized the guard shift changes, their prefered posts, etc. After throwing the grappling hook into a carelessly open air shaft, we shimmied up and crawled through the vents, pausing every now and then so as not to alert the guards and scientists below to our presence. About fifteen minutes of looking though the grates, and we'd found the right lab.

Now came the difficult part: getting the info while not getting caught, then getting the hell out.

"Okay, I'm going to look through some security tapes, you guys get the intel." I said, already walking over to the monitors.

Nat pulled the disks from her pack. "Fine with me. Just check the cameras every now and then and let us know if any KG get too close, alright?" She slid a disk into the computer, and began skimming through the files.

I gave her a thumbs up. "Will do."

-----

After two hours, I was still watching the tapes of the previous year. No orange blur that could have been Daxter running for his life (which is more than likely what he would have been doing), no flash of green skin or aquamarine hair or blue tunic. Just nothing.

"Any guards?" Phen asked as I switched back over to the view of the cameras outside the lab.

"Nope. It's too bad, really. I wanted to test the voice changers." I fake-pouted, trying to make myself look like I was really dissapointed. "But I guess it's a good thing the Krimzon Idiots decided to stay away from this lab."

"It is. These pistols Torn gave us don't do much except stun, but I have to say I was looking forward to confusing the hell out of a few guards." Natalie smirked, fingering the handgun at her belt. "Anyway, we're almost done downloading the intel. We've finished with the Blue, Yellow, and Red. Just Dark left."

"I still can't believe anybody would be stupid enough to mess with Dark Eco."

"It says here that all the colors except Dark were unsuccessful. But they're debating whether or not to drop the whole thing and put the money they've been using for the project toward something like new Hellcats, or stronger armor. I not sure if either is good news for us." Phen said, reading off a screen.

I went back to screen watching just in time to see a couple guards wander too close to the lab for comfort. I kept my voice down as I warned the others. "Guards at twelve o' clock! Hide!"

Phenric and Nat ducked behind the computers, while I crawled into the space between the wall and the back of the screens. Just in time, too, because next moment the guards opened the door and pointed a flashlight around. The beam of light only just missed the top of Phen's head, which I could see barely sticking up over the edge of the desk the computers were on.

"Eh, I could have sworn I'd heard something in here." I could hear the shrug in the guard's voice. But I didn't look to be sure. Looking meant revealing myself, and if I did that, not only would the entire mission go up in flames, but the dunderheads would start shooting. And being turned into swiss cheese is _not _what I call fun.

"C'mon. You're just paranoid, Al. The only people to get in here are the scientists, the Baron, and the Commander. Nobody else can get past us." The other guard was obviously bored out of his mind, probably wishing that his shift could end so he could get drunk off his ass in some cheap bar. Well, that's what most guards chatted about as we snuck around them. They weren't the best conversationalists, and I could tell because their conversations were about eighty percent getting drunk, fifteen percent complaining about getting sewer duty, and a whopping five percent racing. "I can't wait for my shift to end. I'm gonna go to the late races and get seriously smashed." He chuckled, more than likely at the thought.

The first guard ignored the other's after work plans. "Maybe the late nights are catchin' up with me." He groaned. "I can't believe I got landed in DWP sentry duty. The place is just gives me the heebie-jeebies."

"Sentry duty ain't that bad, is it?" They continued to speak right there in the doorway.

Natalie peeked out from behind the desk, at an angle so that I could see her, but the guards couldn't. She nodded toward them and hit her palm with her other hand. The question was obvious: _Are we gonna have to knock these guys out?_

I shook my head. They'd leave sooner or later. Preferably the former.

One of the guards' comms rang. "Lieutenants, you're needed in Cellblock D-7." I shivered as the Baron's voice washed over the room. "Our guest needs to be... calmed down."

'Calmed down' for the Baron probably meant, 'beat into submission'. I pitied the poor soul who got trapped in there.

"Can you believe the Commander yanked that _kid _off the street? He can't be older than sixteen." The guard muttered as they left, closing the door behind them.

"A kid in the Prison? The Baron's lost it." Nat said once the guards were out of earshot.

A window popped up on the screen, alerting us that it was finished downloading. Phen grabbed the disk, and Natalie handed him the pack that held the other disks. He slid it into a pocket. "I think it's time we got back to the Hideout."

"Amen to _that._" I said.

-----

After we got outside, I flipped my comm open. "This is squad Beta, returning to base."

We weren't really a squad, but I did this every time we finished to annoy Torn. It was kind of a routine.

He growled on the other end, the glare clear in his voice. "Just get back here with that intel, kid."

Now it was my turn to glare. "Torn, we've been over this a zillion times. My name is _Dezerae_, not Kid. Say it with me: Dez-er-ae." I said each syllable slowly and deliberately.

I heard him chuckle on the other end. "Whatever. Just get back here. Over and out." He hung up before I could reply.

I rolled my eyes. "Even after a year, he still can't get it through his head that not everyone younger than him is named 'Kid'."

"Torn is Torn." Phen said, getting in an abandoned zoomer. "I guess it's just a habit he picked up in his younger days."

"Yeah, but that's ancient history now." Nat smirked. We all liked to joke on Torn's age. He was only, what? Twenty-seven? Sheesh, the guy looked older than he was.

* * *

And I guess that's it. For now...

Jeez I suck at being ominous

Sorry if I got Torn's age wrong. I was guessing.


	9. Fencing With Spoons and a Cliffhanger

Cockney is British, right?

If so, the reason I made Monte have that accent is so I could have him say all sorts of British words.

I don't have anything against British folk; I just think their phrases are cool-sounding.

*** I'll use this to signal scene changes from now on. Much simpler, no?

And just so we're clear, Dez always has her locket. I'll try to include it more often, 'kay?

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Fencing with Spoons and a Cliffhanger**

The next morning at breakfast, we met told Monte what had transpired on the mission. We hadn't been able to the night before, since he'd been out at the Pumping Station, clearing out Metal Heads.

"The Baron's off his bloody rocker!" He said, nearly spilling his bowl of Cocoa Puffs over everyone.

I leaned toward Natalie. "Translation, please?" I didn't understand "Monte-speak" yet, so I was almost in constant need of interpretation.

She poured a glass of juice as she spoke. "He means the Baron's gone crazy."

"As if he's not already," Phenric, who was in the middle of helping himself to another bowl of cereal, said.

I smirked. "The Baron may have gone crazy, but Erol's the one who's abso-friggin'-lutely nuts!"

"Did you see the Class 2 race last week? He smashed that one guy on the fourth turn. It was _gruesome_, the way they kept replaying that over and over!" Phen said. "I mean, they skipped over half of the entire race."

"The guys controlling the slow-mo thing were probably just bored," I said, spooning my Marshmallow Bits into my mouth and chewing them up. "I mean, _every single_ race is the same thing. Erol wins this, Erol wins that, it gets monotonous."

"I heard one of Krew's clients is starting a race team. Whoever it is, they're supposed to be a really good mechanic," Natalie said.

"Really?" I asked. Krew had a ton of clients, but most of them were bootleggers, or in the Guard. Hardly any got into racing.

"It's true. I heard it straight from the yakow's mouth." She brandished her milky spoon at me.

"Don't you mean, 'straight from the bucket of lard's mouth'?" Monte asked, swallowing the last dregs of his cereal and then pointing _his _spoon at Natalie.

"You are _not _trying to provoke me into a spoon-sword fight, are you?" She said, finishing her breakfast and poking Monte with her 'weapon.'

"Oh, I'm just arsing about," he replied, poking Nat on the sleeve of her brand new light green shirt.

Phenric translated this time. "He means he's just messing around. And you might want to get out of the splatter zone. Their 'sword' fights usually end up in somebody getting wet."

Heeding his advice, I pulled my nearly-empty cereal bowl and juice glass away from the two, who were now jabbing and stabbing their utensils at one other across the table.

"On guard!" Monte parried a blow from the spunky black-haired girl's spoon.

"Touché!" She countered, blocking one from him.

"Ouch! Okay, now _that's _my throwing arm!"

"Bloody hell! That hurt!"

"That's what happens when you mess with me, Brit Twit!"

"How about that? Breakfast and a show." Phen said to me. I giggled and shoved his shoulder, which he chuckled at. We finished up the morning meal while Natalie and Monte battled it out with their utensils.

"Okay, truce! Truce!" Monte said after about twenty minutes of 'Spoon Fencing,' as he'd dubbed it. It was the usual morning routine: Nat and Monte eat breakfast, someone gets bored and pokes the other with a spoon, and then the sword-fight ensues. Sometimes they even got up and fenced around the room. Then _somebody_, I'm not pointing fingers,—coughMontecough—gets tired and calls a truce.

"Come on, ladies," I said, grinning at the indignant looks on the guys' faces and pulling my fifteenth birthday present—a drawstring bag—from under my chair. I peeked in and checked that I had the essentials: loose change, my secondhand hoverboard (travel-sized at the moment, of course), and my journal (now fitted with a lock, the key to which hanging around my neck on a chain, along with my locket). "We told Rodrick and Rodney that we'd meet them at the gym, remember?"

Rodrick and Rodney were twins who were in both the Underground and the Guard. They'd looked almost exactly alike if Ney (that's what we called Rodney, so as not to mistake one for the other) didn't have tattoos across the right side of his face and neck, while Rick (guess who?) had them on the left. They slipped info on Guard strategies and whatnot to Railroad Face who spent most of his time pouring over maps in the main room.

After gathering the dishes and carrying them to the kitchen, we set them in the sink. Just as Phen turned the faucet on, Beth came up behind us.

"Oh, don't worry about those, dears. I'll take care of them," she said in a way that reminded me of my grandmother, way, _way_ back when days were spent causing trouble.

"You sure?" resounded from all four of us.

"Of course. Anyway, Torn told me to tell you that he has a 'special assignment' for you today."

"We were kind of on our way to meet Rick and Ney…" Monte said, looking confused. Torn usually gave us missions at night. You could say it was our specialty. And this definitely wasn't our specialty.

"I'm sure that the assignment won't hinder your day. Much." Beth added as an afterthought.

"Um, okay?"

***

"Babysitting?! Are you bleeding serious?"

* * *

A big, shiny, metaphorical trophy goes to whoever can guess who said the last line!

Tell me, how's my cliffhanger?

R&R please!


	10. Haven City Gym

Wahoo! Chapter ten, peeps! Double digits! Party! Anybody got vodka? Just kidding, I'm not even _close _to legal drinking age. But still, party!

P.S. I'm using vocab that I didn't know existed until today, so the words with the numbers after them in the parenthesis are at the bottom, and they're defined, too!

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Haven City Gym**

"Yes, Monte, I _am _serious," Torn asserted as he herded two little children from under the bunk they'd hid beneath at Monte's outburst.

"How hard could it be?" I asked, looking the kids up and down.

The first was a boy, who I instantly recognized as the Kid that followed Kor everywhere, which he was obviously not doing at the moment, as the old man was nowhere in sight. He looked slightly startled, but recovering from the shock quickly, grinning at Torn's annoyance at Monte's yell. For some strange reason, I felt as though I'd seen him before, a time that I could hardly remember. His crocadog was over in the corner, relieving himself on a bunk post.

The other was a little girl who reminded me faintly of Keira; she even had the same name! She had blue-green ringlets hanging about her face, and slightly too-big clothing. A small wrench was clutched in her tiny hand, another similarity to the Keira I'd known since diaper-dom.

Torn ignored my query and went ahead explaining Kor's absence. "Kor's under the weather with a bout of flu, so he can't watch these two right now," he said, "That's where you four come in."

"Let me guess, we have to watch them until he recovers," guessed Nat. "Piece of cake."

"No, _not _a piece of cake," Monte said. "Sorry, but the closest I've ever come to babysitting is telling Natalie to get out of that rotting tree when we were twelve." He retreated a couple steps as mini-Keira walked up to him, swinging the wrench a little.

"Don't tell me you're scared of two little kids, Monte," I laughed.

"No," he retorted, just a _tad _too quickly to be believed. "I'm scared for them. Who knows what could happen if inexperienced teens try to care for children and have no idea what they're doing."

"How about we worry about problems in the present, instead of things that haven't, nor probably will, happen?" Natalie said.

"Just get going," Torn ordered, turning to the maps on the back wall, marking possible points for new safehouses.

"Sheesh," I muttered. "Come on Scruffy," I called to the crocadog, and he trotted out the door behind us

***

"Hey guys!" Rodney and Rodrick chorused as we entered the gym. They had a habit of doing that; I just passed it off as a twin thing.

"Looks like you've got a couple tag-a-longs," Rick observed, crouching down to the Kid's level and ruffling his hair. The Kid giggled, smiling up at the twins. "Why didn't you tell us these guys were coming."

"It was kind of a last minute thing," Natalie said. "We only found out they were coming this morning."

"Ah, so Torn chose the tell-you-right-before-you-leave approach," Ney said, sharing a knowing look with his brother. "He pulled that one with us once."

"He made you babysit?" I asked.

"We wish," Rick said.

"Nah, he made us clear Metal Heads away from the Sacred Site."

I'd never been to Dead Town, nor had I seen the Sacred Site, so naturally I was curious as to why is was a big deal. However, every time the Battle of Dead Town was brought up in conversation, Phen seemed a little on edge. So instead of asking about the Site, I changed the subject to something we should've been talking about in the first place.

"So," I said, "are we gonna stand here and chatter, or are we gonna fence with _real(istic) _swords?"

"I thought you'd never ask, grasshopper."

Oh, there was no way _in hell_ that Phenric was taking that "grasshopper" tone with me!

"Really?" I asked, grabbing an foil, pausing only to think how strange it was to name a sword "foil."

"Oh, ho ho! I think we've got a challenge here!" Ney said, grinning.

"Not just a challenge, but a _fencing challenge_, mate!" Monte said enthusiastically, and clasped his hands together.

And of course, Natalie put her two cents in with a, "Not only a fencing challenge, but a fencing challenge between _Dezer and Phenric_!"

I held up the hand that didn't have a sword clutched in it. "I think we get it, guys." I added just a _hint_ of playful sarcasm, for effect.

"Quoth Dezerae, are we gonna talk or are we gonna fence?" Phen thrust his own foil my way.

"Okay, low blow!" I said, dodging and slashing back, with a balestra(1).

He countered with a fleche(2), and ran behind me. I whipped around and ducked just as his foil came swishing over my head. I straighted up and swung my sword. Phenric parried, and a second later lunged(A/N: I think y'all know what that means), forcing me to parry his attack. It went on for a few minutes; parry, lunge, coupé(3), balestra, lunge, fleche...

"Too slow!" I said as another of his lunges missed, and hopped back a few feet.

I swung my sword, and Phenric stepped backwards and tripped over Scruffy, who was walking by behind him. He fell to the floor with a crash, and using this to my advantage, I ran up and poked him in the chest with my foil. "I win."

"I guess the student is now the master," he laughed. I smirked; there were two things I prided myself on: fencing and the fact that I could disable a Hellcat Cruiser's weapon system in six minutes flat.

I extended a hand to pull him up. "Now? Are you saying you just noticed?" I asked, still grinning.

A mischievous look came over his face. I knew what he was going to pull, but before I could pull my hand away, he grabbed it and pulled me onto the ground with him. I whapped him on the arm in retaliation, but alas, my grin gave me away.

I guess some things were amusing, if a little annoying.

* * *

Blah, blah, blah… You know the deal, read and review, please!

(1) balestra-a forward hop or jump, typically followed by an attack such as a lunge or fleche.

(2) fleche-lit. "arrow"; an attack in which the aggressor leaps of his leading foot, attempts to make the hit, and then passes the opponent at a run.

(3) coupé**-**an attack or deception that passes around the opponent's tip.

Sorry for the wait, though. A little (or maybe not so much) thing called "high school" got in the way.

Oh, and I realized that Tess hasn't been heard from for the last few chappies. I promise I'll try to get her back in the story.

Tess:_/sarcastically/_ Thank you. _/walks off exasperatedly/_


	11. Frilly Crap And A Zoomer Thief

Time skip this time around. So now the setting has been Haven City for… (drum roll please)…two years!

And now you'll see more plot characters, instead of my pathetic OC's. Maybe not this chapter, though. You'll just have to read on and find out, now won't ya?

I just hope I can get their personalities right.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Frilly Crap And A Zoomer Thief**

"Get up, Dezer."

I opened one eye, then closed it immediately. "Five more minutes."

"You said that five minutes ago. And you said you'd go with me to the bazaar."

"You're not going to let this go until I get up, are you Tess?"

"Nope!" Tess chirped.

I sighed. "Fine. Just let me get dressed first."

"Okay!"

As soon as I pulled on my boots and grabbed my bag, Tess practically dragged me to Phen and Monte's room, asked if she could have the keys to her zoomer back (the guys had borrowed it for a coffee run the night before, and Phenric's "baby" had been totally destroyed last time they'd been "out on the town"), and dragged me to aforementioned, pink and white-polka-dotted zoomer, chattering away all the while about your typical girl stuff: guys, clothes, the usual Tess-gossip. All I really had to do was nod and say "Yep," at the appropriate times and she was never the wiser. It worked with practically anybody so absorbed in their own speech that they forget to check whether anybody else's actually listening.

"Did you see what Stacia was wearing yesterday? That was such a cute top! And that skirt...!"

"Hey, Tess?" I asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah?" she said, letting me know that she was all ears.

"Do you think we could stop by the library afterwards? There's a book that I want to look at."

"Sure!"

***

Believe it or not, Haven City had only one library, despite it's large population and size. People said that the Baron had passed a law that banned most of the books in the city. And it was just one of the many bans on the city. The whole "bag banned law" had been repealed when the council members were arrested for carrying their breifcases around between their offices and the palace, and it was also one of the few bans that were acutally lifted. This city passed more laws than notes are passed in a classroom.

After being dragged to Tess's favorite stand, Pink Fru-Fru (insert shudder here. It's not that I hated pink, it's just that there was such a thing as "too much" in it's case) and being made to cart several bags of frilly pink shit, we were on the way to the library. And I was stuck in the back seat with said frilly pink shit.

I was busy muttering to myself about things I would seriously consider doing to the freaking _pink _bear riding shotgun when she wasn't looking(all of which ended in stuffing everywhere) when all of a sudden Tess and I, along with all of the pink crap, were dumped out of the zoomer.

Looking up, I saw that whoever had comandeered the vehicle was being chased by the KG. I didn't have time to actually see the person's face, but whoever they were, they instantly punched the gas and sped away, leaving me and Tess sitting in the middle of the KG running past, who trampled her purchases. She threw them a very dirty look as we got to our feet.

"Did you see who it was?" I asked, wiping the dust off my jeans.

Her good mood was obviously extinguished by the zoomer thief. "I didn't see much, just blond hair and a freaky orange shoulder pad. But I swear, if I ever find out who did it, they're gonna wish they'd stuck to walking."

***

We decided to skip out on the library and head straight back to the Hideout. The book could wait, but Torn would kick both our asses if he found out we waited till curfew to tell him what'd happened.

Torn was outside the hideout when we finally got there. Since her zoomer was stolen, we'd had to take the scenic, foot-killing route.

"Where's Tess's zoomer? Please tell me you didn't get it towed again," Torn said.

"Some whacko jacked it," she answered sounding marginally less pissed than when it had been stolen.

"Monte and Phenric left earlier to go to the Hip Hog. Natalie hung back to wait for you two. Not that I'm happy with being a messenger boy."

"Crap! I forgot that we were s'posed to meet them. I'm gonna grab a hoodie and Nat, then we'll go." I headed down the stairs, hearing a zoomer drive up, and heard a gruff voice say, "We're looking for a guy named Torn."

* * *

I think it's pretty obvious who has now entered my story.

Oooooooh.......You are now under my control.......Press the Review button and leave a nice review......NOW!


	12. Long Time No See

Hello again, my readers!

Sorry for the wait.

And I'm going to try writing this story in third-person, just to see how well I do it with this fandom.

Also... I just got my braces off this morning! No more metal mouth! Except for the retainers I now have to wear 24 hours a day, but it's worth it!

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: **

Dezerae's mind was spinning as she struggled to find sleep. Listening to Natalie and Tess snoring softly, flashes of the conversation that had taken place a few hours ago in the Hip Hog bounced around in her skull.

_"There's been a breakout..."_

_"...rumors say it's a demon..."_

_"...out for revenge on the Baron..."_

_"...tapes show some orange weasel in goggles got him out..."_

_"...called him 'Jack' or something..."_

_"...got mad and almost killed the rat...stopped for some reason..."_

It couldn't be. Why would Jak be in prison? Saving the world wasn't a crime, was it?

Who knew? Maybe in this place it was. Dezerae wouldn't be surprised; things in Haven City were so different from her home.

_Precursors, I'm a moron,_ she thought, sitting up and massaging her temples. This much thinking was giving her a headache.

_Two years and I don't think to check the Prison files _once.

Another question popped up in her head:_ Demon?_ Jak wasn't a demon, he could barely bring himself to hit anything other than a Lurker.

"It _has _been a long time," Dezerae whispered to herself. "Maybe Jak and Daxter've changed. I know I have."

And she had. Since arriving in Haven City she'd grown a few inches, and she'd gotten leaner. She was more willing to handle a weapon than before setting foot in the city. Her hair now reached the middle of her back, and more often than not was worn in a braid. Now when she looked at the photo of herself and childhood friends, she barely recognized herself.

"I wish I knew where they were," she breathed, sleep finding her at last.

* * *

A few days later, Dezerae got her wish, though it happened quite differently than she would have expected.

"_Shit_," she muttered, diving behind another crumbling wall as shots rang out behind her. Why had she run this errand for Torn?

Oh, yeah; because she was _so _sure of herself and thought she could handle it.

_'Go help the newbie,' he said. 'You'll be fine,' he said. I'm going to frickin' murder Torn when I get back._

Torn had sent her out in the field, a rare event. Specifically, Dead Town. That meant that he either had nobody else to do if for him, or he actually thought she was that good. More than likely the former. Her mission was to locate a greenhorn who'd radioed in, requesting back up. It turned out that the rookie's companion had panicked and called in. The newbie needed absolutely no assistance, and for some reason, now saw Dezerae as a threat.

_I haven't even seen the idiot, and he's already trying to kill me. Wonderful._

"I think you got it, Jak. Whatever _it _was."

"I don't think so, Dax. They might be trying to set us up for an ambush."

Dezerae froze. That couldn't be... But there was no mistaking the first voice: Daxter.

The other... No. Jak didn't speak. He _couldn't_. But Daxter had called him Jak, so it had to be him.

Now she knew she'd found them. Or rather, they'd found her. Whatever, same difference.

The light clunk of boots on dirt alerted her to the danger she was in; she knew them, but _they _didn't know that Dezerae was the one behind the wall. Jak could end up shooting her and not even know it until it was too late.

"Before you pull the trigger," she said, standing in her hiding place. "Think about who it is you'll hit."

The footsteps halted abruptly.

"And who is that, exactly?" the gruff voice inquired, sounding wary but curious.

"I'll give you a couple hints, Jak: I've known you nearly my whole life, and my brother is sitting on your shoulder."

She heard a gasp, and tiny footsteps hitting the ground, followed by considerably heavier ones.

The furry form of Daxter appeared around the corner of the crumbling plaster. Upon seeing her, he jumped at her, latching his arms around her neck and shouting, "Dezzie!"

Dezerae laughed, hugging her brother back. "The one and only. Nice to see you, too, big brother."

Suddenly, she was pulled into a one-armed hug by Jak, just like he always had when they were kids. Jak had grown over the two years like she had. He was still taller than she was (it figured; every time she thought she'd reached his height, he gained an inch or three), and his hair was longer, now hanging down the back of his neck in blond-gree tresses. He still sported the steel eco-ring he never took off as a kid, and the same goggles he always wore were on his forehead. His eyes, happy at the moment, seemed darker than before, more dangerous. Even now, though he radiated relief, his persona gave off a slightly angry air. Plus, he had facial hair. That hadn't seemed like a possibility back in Sandover.

Daxter's changes were more subtle. He looked slightly skinnier, and his goggle appeared to hang looser around his ears. But the relief from seeing both him and Jak erased all worry for the time being.

After several rounds of "Omigod, you're here, you're alive!" the reunited threesome decided to head back to HQ.

* * *

So, am I forgiven for the wait?

I think I did pretty good on the reunion. But it would mean a lot to me if you told me what you think!


	13. Even Big Brothers Don't Like The Doctor

Alrighty! Now it's just gonna be jumping from one important thing to the next (Class races, Precursor Stone, etc.) Enjoy!

* * *

Soon afterward, things returned to the way they'd been, with the addition of Phen and the guys, and a different setting. Samos and Keira were sure to show up soon, so Dezerae, Daxter, and Jak didn't worry. But that didn't mean that they were going to stop looking, either. Today, however...

"No, no, no!"

"Come on, bro! It's just a checkup! Nothing to be scared of; It's just to make sure you're not carrying anything contagious!"

Jak was off on a mission for Torn-one which he needed stealth, so no ottsel for him-which left Daxter in the care of his little sister for the day. Too bad for him, today was the day all the Undergrounders lined up for the Medic to make sure they were healthy and their Eco levels were under control. And now, it was Daxter's turn.

"You know, usually, it's the younger sibling who'd be panicking, not the big brother," Dezerae informed her brother, who was clinging to a bunk post as if it was his only life line.

In the background Torn chuckled, and murmered something that sounded like, "not as tough as he says he is."

"Hey, I heard that, Tattooed Wonder!"

"If it'll make you feel better, I'll go first, then," Dez offered, ceasing in her efforts to pry the ottsel off the post.

"Fine. But only to prove that I _am_ as manly as I claim!" proclaimed Daxter, pointedly glaring at the Underground commander's back.

"Let's go then, before you and Torn murder each other. Not that I'd be complaining."

* * *

(A.N.: From now on I'll use this to let you know when the scene changes. And this time I promise to keep it.)

The red-headed sixteen-year-old sat on the cot calmly as the medical professional checked her vitals: heart rate, blood pressure, etc. When the rebel doctor pulled out a small syringe, she didn't have to force her self to stay put, like she would have had to about a year ago. She did, however, look away while the gray-haired man prepared her arm for the blood sample, then inserted the needle into her vein.

When she heard a "All finished," she grinned at Daxter.

"See? It's not so bad. All you have to do is focus on something other than the needle," Dezerae said. "Kind of like your happy place."

_Which I really hope doesn't include scantilly clad women, _she added in her mind while the medic ran her blood through a machine, which beeped after a few minutes and spat out a sheet with too many numbers and big words to count.

"Well," he began, skimming the paper, "it seems that your eco-levels are under control, though your yellow tolerance has heightened since your last checkup. Are you sure you aren't a channeler?" he asked as he straightened his stained, white coat.

"Of course not." Ever since she was a kid, Dezerae had never been able to do anything with eco. She did notice that she absorbed yellow eco like a channeler, but whenever she tried to use it, nothing happened. At those times, she felt like an utter failure compared to Mr. I-can-control-all-ecos-even-light Jak, who would tell her that it wasn't her fault, in his special, silent way.

"Okay, young man, your turn," the doctor told Daxter.

Dezerae promised not to tell anyone that he needed her to hold his hand through the whole thing, because she didn't want to damage Daxter's ego any more than it needed to be.

* * *

Yep, I'm planning for something big!

This is pretty much a brother/sister thing I wanted to put in. Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what situation I should do next; right now, we're right before Jak races to the Stadium and sees Keira even though he doesn't know it's Keira.


	14. Can't think of a Chapter Name

You know that feeling you get when your brother and one of your gal pals are flirting as if there's no tommorow? Yeah, that pretty much explains Dez's situation.

* * *

"I think I'm going to be sick," Dezerae muttered, watching Tess and Daxter flirt at the bar.

_Does she even know she's talking to a two-foot-tall rodent?_ she wondered, setting two alcoholic beverages on some random stranger's table. The man sitting there was swaying in his seat, eyes drunkenly trying to focus on the glass placed in front of him.

Dezerae couldn't wait for her shift to be over. She was at her wits end with the drunk bastards that kept trying to score with her. One could only endure so many hours listening to slurred pick-up lines. No wonder she and Tess were the only women who worked at the Triple-H saloon.

Sidestepping an overly-intoxicated patron, the red-head paced back to the bar for another person's order.

"...Racing is the biggest sport in the city," Krew was saying, floating around the trophy's stacked haphazardly on way-too-high-for-any-normal-person-to-reach shelves. Dezerae listened in as she waited for Tess to grab the drinks she needed to deliver to the waiting shlub, pausing in her flirt-fest with Daxter.

"Erol is the undisputed grand champion. He's crazy and dangerous on the track," the floating tub of lard chuckled, "My kind of guy. Only a fool would dare race against him, ey!" proclaimed Krew, drifting over and getting in Jak's face, a habit of the fat man's. Unnoticed - or rather, ignored - by Krew, the blonde rengade waved one gloved hand in front of his nose, clearing the breathing space of Krew-fumes. "And that's where you two come in. A client of mine is looking for a fast driver for her racing team. Here's a security pass to get you into the stadium section." He threw the little device to Jak, who caught it deftly. "Uh, and your contract with just a few trifles for me. I've, ah, already signed your name to save time."

_Save time? More like sealing the deal before hero-boy gets a say, _Dezerae thought as Daxter caught the papers that fell from Krew's overly-pudgy fingers and began to read.

"We the racers hereby agree to give Krew all proceeds from race earnings, endorsement fees, broadcast royalties, syndications residuals, vehicle sponsorships, mall appearance fees, collectible card assets, fast-food tie-ins, use of likeness rights, talk show deals, clothing lines, all print rights including book, novella, comic, pamphlet, tickertape, neon sign and bathroom graffiti designs..." The ottsel took a deep breath, since he recited all of the first page in one. Thankfully the next page was not as long. Dezerae zoned the list out as she waitressed drinks.

Across the saloon, a "GAME RIGHTS?" was heard, as she was in the back room to escape the patrons for a few minutes. She, Phenric, and Natalie often disappeared back there, much to the owner's annoyance.

"Hey, you wanna come, Sis?" asked Daxter from Jak's shoulder as they both peeked in the room before departing.

"Sorry, Dax. I have to run a couple errands for you-know-who. I'll meet you guys back at the Hideout."

"Alright. See you later, then." And with that the Demolition Duo left to race to the Stadium. To make it all the way there in under three minutes would be amazing, since it and the Port were on opposite sides of the city.

"So," Dezerae began, seating herself on a stool opposite of Tess. "What exactly do you see in my brother?"

"What _don't _I see in Daxxie? He's sweet, funny..." Tess almost swooned just thinking of him.

"You forgot obnoxious, an ottsel, and he's _Daxter._"

"But like you told us, he wasn't always like that," countered the perky blonde.

"I said he wasn't always an ottsel. The other two, he's always been."

Natalie and Phenric joined them at that moment, and changed the subject completely over to the state of some of the patrons, the male portion of whom were on a mission to get completely wasted.

* * *

Okay, that wasn't too short, was it? I'm trying to keep them at least 700 words long. I'm going to have Dezerae go on a solo mission next chappie. What "errands" should she run? You decide! Please?


	15. Mission Accomplished

Oh god! It's so horrendously short! Please forgive me for the shortness *cowers*

A great big "Thank You!" goes out to PurpleDragon614 for the errand idea. And on with the chapter!

Also, in my Document Manager, the text is tiny for some reason, so if it's tiny when you're reading it, don't blame me. I was screwing around with the text, and now... Well, you get what I mean, right?

* * *

Dezerae left the Hip Hog several minutes later, along with Phenric and Natalie.

"See you later!" the red-head called as her friends departed on a two-seater, in the direction of the Slums, while she drove her own, "borrowed" zoomer toward the Farming District.

Her mission was relatively simple: she was to destroy - or at the very least, delay - a shipment of supplies and food before it reached it's destination, the KG barracks. Torn's idea was if they could keep supplies away from the Baron's forces, the rebel movement might be able to gain an upper-hand in the war.

The sixteen-year-old girl discreetly inched her zoomer behind a large, blue, corn-like vegetable and checked her watch. If her info was correct, the shipment should be there in a few minute. Shoving her gloved hands into her jacket pockets, Dezerae leaned against aforementioned blue veggie, and waited.

Soon enough an extremely conspicuous vehicle lumbered around the corner, with several KG HellCats in front of and behind it, serving as an escort. Gripping the small, round explosives hidden in her pocket, she walked - not too slow, not too fast - to the middle of the street, timing her pace almost perfectly. Then, when the guards steering the shipment had his head turned away from her direction, she crouched, and leapt straight up at the vehicle, like she'd seen Jak do when he was commandeering a zoomer. Only she stayed on the bottom.

Fortunately, the civvies on the ground either didn't notice her, or ignored the red-head attatching herself to the bottom of a KG vehicle. Several Undergrounders, hidden among the citizens, surreptitiously gave her a thumbs up, or grinned. Dezerae merely nodded in response before returning to the task at hand.

She pulled the explosives out of her pocket and slapped them on the metal, the dull _thunk _of each one going unnoticed as she made her way along. After placing five devices, she dropped from the vehicle and continued on her way, acting as if she'd done nothing out of the ordinary, let alone sabotage vital KG supplies.

Once Dezerae was in the next sector, she placed her hand in her other jacket pocket and pressed a circular, red button on a small, silver remote. Twenty seconds later, a bang was heard behind her, along with loud cries from the KGs. A small grin appeared on her face.

_Mission accomplished. _


	16. Hose Heads and Yellow Eco

Yay! I'm not dead! And look: a chappie over two-thousand words, just for you guys! And a plot twist I've been meaning to add! Yay! Say it with me! "Yay!"

I admit, I played around with the dialogue in this one, mostly because A) Dezerae's been added to the mix, and 2) I don't really remember it from the game, considering I haven't played in like _forever._

Enjoy, and I totally understand if you flame me for the tardiness. But that doesn't mean I won't roast marshmallows over them and make smores, and then not share them with you.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Hose Heads and Yellow Eco**

"Ugh, now I know why Jinx smells so much, if he's down here on a regular basis!"

Dezerae pinched her nose shut, breathing through her mouth as the lift descended into the sewers. She, Jak, and Daxter stood upon it, the ottsel and teen girl complaining about the horrid stench(1). Jak simply stood, gun in hands, ready to shoot anything that moved. Aside from Jinx and Co, of course, although that could change.

The elevator slowed before halting completely, three figures coming into view. Dezerae instantly recognized them as Mog, the tall, widely built guy who was actually a bit of a softie when you got to know him; Grim, who fully lived up to his name, the pessimist; and their ringleader, Jinx, the blond who flirted with anything that possessed legs. The trio often stopped by the Hip Hog late at night to either get completely wasted, plastered, pissed, however you want to call the drunken states they got themselve's into.

The three explosive experts were having a whispered conversation, cut off abruptly by the grinding gears of the lift and by Jinx's annoying accent(2).

"Quiet, here comes Pretty Boy and his sidekicks."

Dezerae rolled her eyes, but ignored the "sidekicks" bit. It looked like Jak already had a nickname from the blond cigar-addict.

"Hello to you too, Jinx. I see that smoking habit of yours hasn't gotten you blown to bits yet."

"I just hope I'm nowhere near him when it does," declared Grim with his usual frown. "But I probably will be, considering my luck."

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine," observed Daxter.

"All right, enough small talk. Let's just get this over with. The sooner we're out of this stench, the better," Jak interjected, pulling his red scarf to cover his mouth and nose in an attempt to block out the odor.

"Aye aye, el capitan." With a mock two-fingered salute from Daxter, the group of six were off.

"Okay Pretty Boy. The big man(3) says you're supposed to get us from Point A to Point Statue. Got that?"

"Crystal clear," Jak replied gruffly, picking up speed. It was clear he wanted to get this over with and return aboveground to relatively fresh air as soon as he possibly could.

The corridor soon ended at a second lift, which they rode down. As they walked (or rather, trudged) along Dezerae felt the sensation they were being watched. Which was understandable, considering the sewers were teeming with things best left undescribed. Unfortunately, that included Metal Heads. Dezerae wondered why they hadn't been attacked when she saw their path blocked by a pile of garbage and tightly packed rubble in front of the door.

"I'll take care o' this in no time," boasted Jinx as he reached for an explosive at his belt.

Just then, several Metal Heads dropped to the floor behind them, denting the floor a bit. Five pairs hands reached for their respective weapons at the same time. Jak, Dezerae, and the rest fanned out, surrounding the beasts as more crawled down the sewage-coated walls.

"Exactly, what the frickin' _hell _are these things?" The red-head demanded to know. She'd never, in her short time in Haven City, seen any Metal Head like this. It had what looked like a single-barrel Blaster for a snout, and lithe, lizard-like body with feet tapering to points that clicked with each step.

"Hose Heads, sweetheart!" answered Jinx as he blasted several rounds into one monster trying to creep up on Grim.

"Don't call me 'sweetheart' unless you have a deathwish, pyro-boy." Dezerae shot one Hose Head in its beady, red eyes, an instant kill. She prefered the quick-and-easy approach when it came to slaying these brutes. If you didn't kill them right away, and weren't shooting a thousand rounds a second, they only got angry. And an angry Metal Head means someone's gonna bite the dust. In other words, it wasn't good. At all.

Jak, on the other hand, was pumping any and all Metal Heads full of lead. If they were only dazed, he even ran up and whacked them with the butt of the Morph Gun. Only a completely reckless person would do something as crazy as that, but then again, Jak was about the most reckless person Dezerae knew.

Eventually the Metal Heads stopped coming, and the group was left alone, still with no way forward. Globs of Dark Eco floated about, and then suddenly they gravitated toward Jak, before absorbing into his skin. He seemed to pale considerably for a split second, eyes turning pitch black and fingernails lengthening to wicked keratin blades. The air crackled as the image disappeared, leaving some wondering if it had been real.

Dezerae was the first to speak.

"...I'm not going to pry, because I know it's not my place. But I want to know: Was that real or was I hallucinating?"

"It was real, alright," Jak paused, "But I wish it wasn't." His tone clearly indicated that the conversation was over.

Jinx advised them to find cover, before setting the timer on a minor explosive. Jak crouched behind a pillar-like column of pipes, Dezerae perched on a ledge safely out of blast range, and Grim and Mog stayed on the other side of the room, hidden by a pile of Metal Head carcasses.

A mechanical ticking filled the air, and then...

Boom!

The path was clear. Hurrying through, the blond renegade at the front with Daxter clinging to his shoulder for dear life, and Dezerae bringing up the rear, gunning down any Metal Head that decided to stray too close. It was a good thing she'd had her Blaster pistol upgraded to a weapon that killed and didn't just stun.

Pretty soon, they were surrounded by the beasts again, no way to back out or move ahead. Hose Heads just seemed to melt from the walls, without any visible end. Jak was going full Vulcan Fury on them, the trio of pyrotechnics backed into a corner, shooting for their lives. Dezerae kicked a Metal Head in the face, trying to conserve her dwindling ammo.

Dark Eco oozed from every gunshot-wound and laceration on the Hose Heads, and ninety percent of it levitated and seeped into Jak. Dezerae was beginning to become genuinely worried; no one could survive being doused in the vile goo. Even Gol and Maia had perished upon being submerged in it, and they were esperts on the substance. Yet here her childhood friend was, soaking it up as a parched desert would absorb rainwater. It just didn't make sense.

_However he's doing it, _she thought, _he's not going to be able to keep it up much longer. Even a Metal Head has it's limit._

And Jak soon reached his. His hair lightened, and ebony horns spiraled from his scalp. His skin changed to a pale gray color, not unlike the ashes in a fire pit. When the tranformation seemed to be complete, he barely looked like Jak anymore.

The beast that had once been the hero of a seaside village tore through the ranks of Metal Heads, leaving nothing but carcasses and corpses of the creatures in his wake. Ten keratin daggers sliced through tough hide as if it were a wet sand castle to be destroyed. All the while, a seemingly petrified ottsel clung to his shoulder pad, as Dark Eco spewed from wounds like blood.

The pyrotechnics and the teenage girl watched the carnage in sickening awe, dumbstruck by the event. Not one of them moved from their positions.

The majority of the monsters soon fell to this... _dark _version of Jak, the several survivors scrabbling up the walls to flee from the creature that was so like them, but not. Jak, in his present condition, watched them go, snarling ferally if one so much as dared to look back.

And then, Dark Jak turned to the group, who stared back, uncertain as to what would happen next.

"Uh, don't worry folks. Just a slight technical difficulty over here!" Daxter announced, waving his fuzzy hands as if to quell the anxiety of a crowd.

The figure upon who's shoulder the ottsel perched took a single step towards the group on all fours. Then another, and another.

Jinx and Mog instantly raised their weapons, hands trembling a bit. Grim just stood in the background, looking sullen and not at all surprised. Jak growled, and Dezerae put a hand up, motioning for them to lower the guns.

"Put them down... Slowly..." She'd seen this behavior in several animals, expecially carnivorous ones. When they felt threatened, they'd be more likely to attack out of self defense. She had no idea whether the half-baked plan she had would work, but she had no intention of letting anyone kill anyone else.

Setting her own pistols on the ground next to Jinx's, she crouched down to Jak's eye level, trying to keep him calm, and held out a hand, palm upwards.

"Dez, what are you doing?" asked Daxter.

Using a hopefully calm and steady voice, she said, "Trust me Daxter; I know what I'm doing."

_At least, I hope. Please, please work, _she prayed mentally.

Keeping her gloved palm extended, she said, "Come here, Jak. Come on," as one would call a housepet. Jak ambled slowly over to her, pausing only when one of the three other men made sudden movements, like stepping back until they were all against the wall.

"Good Jak... good, boy," Dezerae complimented when the once-blond was in arms reach. Tentatively, she patted the matted mess on his head. Jak made a growl-like sound deep in his throat, and she pulled back. Trying again, she reached her fingers into his knotted hair and scratched his head, recieving the same result. With a shock, she realized that Jak, the macho, tough-guy warrior of Sandover, was purring. _Purring_.

Dezerae chuckled, rubbing a bit faster. Jak purred louder and leaned his head towards her hand.

"Okay," commented Daxter, nodding. "Even _I _didn't know that would work."

"He's kinda like a really big kitty," observed Dezerae, still scratching. Jak had his tongue out, panting like a crocadog in happiness. Realizing what she just said, she informed her companions, "When he, you know, changes back, you better not tell him I said that."

Suddenly, Jak made a real growl, his lightless eyes glaring at something behind her. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, that one of Jinx's pistols were missing. Behind her a gun was cocked.

"Jinx, put the gun down," she ordered. A few seconds passed. "_Now_."

"No, that thing's gonna kill us all if we don't get rid of it." His voice had a hidden edge of fear.

Jak lunged, scratching the skin over the middle of Dezerae's arm in the process. More out of shock than pain, she fell back, right onto a half-empty canister of Yellow Blaster shell.

Unfortunately for Jak, who was mere centimeters away from ending his Jinx problem for good, his Dark Eco self had apparently run out of fuel, leaving a surprised, normal tanned, blond, blue-eyed renegade. Sitting right on Jinx's chest(4).

Everyone was dazed for a moment, not quite sure what had just happened.

"Dez!" Daxter scrambled over to his sister, intent on examining her wounds.

Except... There were no wounds. Just plain, unwounded skin, covered in a thin layer of Yellow Eco from a Blaster gun.

Jinx went "oof!" as Jak stomped off of him and came over.

"What... how...? Why..." Dezerae struggled to form a coherent sentence. This wasn't... It couldn't mean that she'd actually...

Daxter was just as perplexed as she was, shrugging mutely.

"Did I really... channel... Eco?" she asked, staring at her arm.

"Yes, Dezerae, I think you did."

* * *

(1) Hey, they're _siblings. _They've got to have something in common other than red hair, blue eyes, and other sibling things. Just be glad they're not arguing like me and my brother, or Jak would likely shoot them both just to shut them up. This is one of the few reasons I hope that they're just characters and will only live in real life through cosplayers, tragic as that is. The thing is, I like being alive.

(2) I think he has an accent, brooklyn or something, so I don't give a flying fox named Fido if you don't agree. Just enjoy the fic, please.

(3) Am I the only one thinking "In more ways than one"?

(4) Awkward, no?


	17. A Little Outing and a Big Surprise

Do I seem like I'm jumping around with the sequence of events in the game? Because I wanted to get this in and there's others that I wanted to write, and it's getting all jumbled. I guess all I can hope for is that you guys can follow along. I'm going to try to accelerate the plot and get this done quick, but since we all know my updating habits are atrocious, it may still take a while. I think I may focus on this one for a while and try to finish it, then move on to other multi-chappie fics I have. Maybe I'll finish 'em faster if I focus on one at a time.

Once again, I apologize for the delay. You guys probably thought I died, didn'tcha?

* * *

Dezerae breathed in a long draught of Dead Town air. It wasn't all that clean, but it was refreshing after several weeks straight underground, learning the do's, don'ts and maybe's of being a Yellow Channeler. It still sounded strange to call herself that.

"Could you wait just a second?" Phenric panted behind her. Dezerae obliged, more out of not knowing where they were going than anything else. Seating herself on a sturdy-looking piece of thick, flat cement that protruded from a nearby, crumbling wall, she waited for him to scale the tall stair-like ruins she'd practically bounded up. The fact that this was her first day aboveground, outside the smog-choked air of the residential majority of Haven, combined with the fact that she was full to the brim with Yellow energy, made her slightly hyper and impatient. She wanted to make the most of the day, forget about the daunting civil war, and just have fun. Add that to the fact a cute boy was assigned to this particular mission along with her, and Dezerae was a happy camper.

Hold on a second. Did she just describe Phenric as _cute_? Phen wasn't cute; okay he was more than cute but that wasn't the point. He was her friend, a close friend, and she shouldn't have been thinking that. But now she was and she had no idea how to stop. And, Precursors, now Phenric was on the ledge and she needed to stop thinking like that. _Stop thinking like that_...

Phenric, oblivious boy that he was, didn't notice her temporary mental distress. Though that may have been because he was now leaning over, hands on his knees, and breathing heavily. After a good few minutes he seemed to have caught his breath, and he pointed in the direction they should go next.

"Just a few more minutes and then we should be able to see the Sacred Site," he said as they clambered over more unstable ledges. "If there are any more Metal Heads left, we'll be able to take them out, easy. But Jak should've gotten at least ninety percent when he cleared it out."

"If I know Jak, then we're wasting our time. He'd have gotten one hundred percent of them, but I guess it doesn't hurt to double check, does it?"

"That it does not," Phenric agreed.

Just then they were crossing a narrow, rickety bridge, which was pretty much a couple rotting boards connecting one side of a deep ditch to the other. At that moment, it seemed to come ot the conclusion that the two were a little too comfortable, and proceeded to give an ominous creaking sound, followed by a loud snap. Dezerae suddenly found that there were no boards beneath her feet, and her stomach lurched as she began to fall straight down, before Phenric grabbed her arm and pulled her safely to the other side.

Unfortunately during the process he lost his balance and they both fell to the ground on top of each other. A few seconds later, after realizing this fact, Dezerae quickly stood up, hoping that her bangs would cover her burning cheeks. "So, uh... which way now?"

"Right..." Phenric stood up, unsuccessfully attempting to hide his cherry-red cheekbones in the collar of his shirt. "It um... looks pretty straightforward from here." He pointed to the only way they could go, down a hallway-like decrepit street.

Setting off without a word, Dezerae soon found herself wondering what exactly the Sacred Site would look like. _Maybe it'll be like the hut with that Oracle. Or like Onin's tent, possibly._

Whatever she did expect though, it definitely wasn't what she was going to see.

"This is the last turn, right?" Dezerae asked, feeling a little excited, even if it was likely going to be just an old crap-shack.

The excitement morphed into first surprise, recognition, and disbelief within the ten seconds after she rounded the corner.

It was nothing like Onin's tent, or the Oracle's hut. Not in any way, whatsoever.

"What... no... isn't..." Dezerae was so shocked she could barely form words, let alone a coherent sentence. Her thoughts raced at fifty miles per minute, and strung specific words together at random to force through her lips.

"Yeah, that's the Sacred Site, in all it's glory," Phenric said, finally catching up with her. He didn't immediately notice that she was standing stock still, staring wide-eyed at the crumbling architecture.

She was staring right at Samos's hut. Only, it wasn't Samos's hut anymore.

It was a ruin.


	18. Home?

Yeah, another long wait. Sorry...

I just remembered that I need to get the races in here, so should I write a chapter for those next? Should I skip right to the second one?

* * *

"That can't be what it looks like."

Someone had spiked her cereal that morning and she was hallucinating. That was it; that had to be it. There was no other explanation, except for one she just couldn't believe.

Because if it was true, that would mean that all the decrepit, destitute, _broken _shells of buildings here, with the overwhelming stench of decomposing wood and dust and _death, _was...

Home. But it couldn't be, it just couldn't be home.

Home wasn't a ghost town, over-run with little acid-green goober lizards and Metal Heads. Home was where the heart was, a warm, cozy, _safe_, place where you talked and laughed with friends and beat your buck-toothed older brother to the bathroom in the morning and had sleepovers with your best friends and you didn't have to worry about anything worse than who left the toilet seat up or who ate the last cookie.

Home wasn't supposed to look like this. Wasn't supposed to look _dead_ like this.

"Hey, you okay?" Phenric sounded concerned.

She didn't answer; she didn't trust herself to speak any more than she had. Instead she made her way across the debris-scattered ground to the pillar that stood between here and the two-story hut. She braced her hands against it and gave it an experimental push. The pillar didn't budge. Dezerae leaned on it, but that proved futile as well.

Shooting a glance at her gloved hands, she toyed with an idea... She'd been told, in no uncertain terms, to only use it in an emergency and only as a final resort. But her blaster pistols wouldn't make much more than a scratch and the noise would alert any Metal Heads that were in the area. Even if they were here to clear the remainder out, she didn't particularly enjoy the idea of coming face to face with one.

Dezerae had to know for sure. She needed to be certain.

"What are you doing?" Phenric asked as yellow light flickered over her fingers. "Torn said you weren't allowed to use that!"

"What Torn doesn't know won't hurt him," she replied. "You wouldn't tell on me, would you?" She tossed a grin over her shoulder before looking back to her self-appointed task, completely oblivious to the faint blush that appeared on the boy's cheeks.

"Well..." he trailed off. "N-no, I mean..." Phenric was cut off and spared the difficulty of answering by a bright flash of topaz-yellow eco and the cracking-crunch sound as the pillar lurched forward over the gap and Dezerae accidently lost control for a second, resulting in the force of the blast pushing her backwards and onto her backside.

"Ouch..." she groaned. But it wasn't the pain of falling that had her attention so much as the stinging she felt in her palms. Bringing them before her eyes, she noticed small abrasions riddling them, glowing yellow for a few brief moments before darkening to red and revealing reddish-pink patches on her palms. Eco-burns. They had been a fairly common occurence back in Sandover, though they'd mostly happened to Jak when he spent a little too much time playing in the Blue vents on the beach. Although, they very rarely happened to her, as back then, Yellow Eco wasn't very common there.

"Are you okay?" Phenric asked hurriedly, rushing over and helping to her feet. "What happened to your hands?"

"I'm fine," she assured him. "And I'm not one hundred percent sure what happened exactly, but I'm guessing the eco in my blood rushed to my hands so fast that when it burst out, it caused eco-burns in my hands. But I'm _fine_," she reiterated, purposely leaving out the fact that she felt a bit drained. She made a mental note to not do anything like that for a while as she shoved her hands in her jacket pockets to keep Phenric from staring at them.

The red-head moved robotically towards the hut, crossing the makeshift bridge without even thinking, heedless of Phenric telling her to be careful. Her blue eyes were trained on the crumbling building.

Making it across with little difficulty, she paused as she glanced at the wooden ramp leading up to what had been Samos' floor of the hut he'd shared with his daughter. Testing the stability with a booted foot, she cautiously stepped on it and when she didn't fall though, she judged it safe enough to continue, though she froze every time it creaked, or when a board moved under her.

And then the bitter scent of Dark Eco reached her nose, just as she approached the rotting doorway above. And when Dezerae stopped completely and listen, she heard the sound of _something _crawling around, though if she had to guess, she'd say it was coming from the ground floor.

"Dammit," the red-head muttered. Craning her head around to look at Phenric, who'd just arrived at the other end of the crude bridge, she called back as loud as she dared, "Watch your back, we're not alone!"

Phenric nodded, and without a word pulled a Scatter gun from pack on his shoulders. Meanwhile, Dezerae pulled her own bag off of her back and pulled out pieces of what appeared to be a Blaster rifle, quickly assembling the weapon with practiced fingers. All the while, she cast furtive glances around, unwilling to be caught off guard as she berated herself under her breath. She should've put it together the moment they were out of Haven City.

_No helping that, now_, Dezerae decided as the barrel of her gun clicked into place and she grabbed her ammunition and proceeded to lock and load. Listening carefully, she found that it sounded like the skittering of the spindly legs of a Stinger. Even if they were tiny and extremely easy to miss if one was looking for bigger fish to fry, their sting was still excuciating at best and deadly at worst.

Padding over the boards, Dezerae quickly scoured the top floor as a precaution, and couldn't help but notice how familiar and lifeless everything was. The color she remembered was long since faded, leaving depressing shades of gray and brown. As a faint breeze blew past, the straw that made up the roof made a rustling noise.

Confirming that the threat was not here, she stepped over an overturned stool and quickly moved down and joined Phenric, who seemed to have not found any Metal Heads yet, seeing as how she hadn't heard any gunshots.

He was facing the door when she entered, and stepping backwards, towards the remains of Keira's old Trans-Pad and Zoomer, which looked too far gone to be of use any more. Phenric's position allowed him to note Dezerae's entrance, but not the skittering little Dark Eco monster that was crawling in through the window.

"Duck!" she warned, aiming. The gunshot rang out, and before anybody could blink, the Metal Head was dead on the floor, carcass already disentigrating into Dark Eco.

"Close one," Phenric observed. Both he and Dezerae stayed as far away from the floating globs of purple goo as was possible. It was common knowledge that no normal person could survive contact. Perhaps Jak could, from what she'd seen, and maybe even Daxter. And Dezerae didn't even want to test her tolerance, now that she could suddenly channel Yellow. Phen tilted his head, apparently having heard something. "Sounds like that wasn't the only one."

Dezerae nodded, having also heard more skittering. "Yeah; stay alert."

They only found a handful of Stingers, although a Hose Head revealed itself and gave them a bit of trouble before slowing down enough to be shot in the neck and killed.

"Think we got 'em all?" Phen inquired, cautiously poking the barrel of his gun through a jagged gap in the bulbous Trans Pad, but finding no gem-headed menace.

Dezerae, who was busying herself by gathering up the fallen Skull gems, shrugged grunted. "If there were, they would've come at the smell of Dark Eco. The things have a strange curiosity in the death of others of their kind." Snatching one up from where it had tumbled behind an rusty abandoned toolbox, she watched as the electric light flickering through the jewel quickly die. The red-haired girl wrinkled her nose at the dark stench coming off of the thing, the only thing that decreased its value in black markets around Haven, before stuffing it in her bag with the rest.

"C'mon, it's getting dark," she stated, shouldering the bulging back. "I want to get back to the Hideout before curfew."

* * *

Once again, I'm so very sorry for the extremely unproffesional lateness of this update. I wouldn't be surprised if you all stopped reading.

In case I didn't state it up at the top, I own nothing. If I did own the games, I certaintly wouldn't have made the Lost Frontier. It completely butchered Jak and Dax's friendship.

So, anyways... Mind reviewing? If you want you can rant and rave at me for updating so erratically.


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